


Damaged Goods

by Pineprin137



Series: Mated [23]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Family Feels, Omega Jensen Ackles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Jensen tries to move forward with the help of his family.
Series: Mated [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509452
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Damaged Goods

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs before Jensen meets Jared in "Once Upon a Spilled Cup of Coffee".

It’s not like Jensen’s never been in a car before. He has plenty of times; as a kid with his parents, a rebellious teen with his friends, and then finally, as a wild party boy with no sense of consideration for anyone else on the road. But standing next to his dad, in front of his mother’s beloved Lexus, butterflies are swirling in his belly like he’s never gripped sun-warmed leather or felt the give of an accelerator under his foot. 

“If you don’t want to do this, it’s alright, son,” Alan says, placing his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “Just because the doctors think it’s time doesn’t mean you have to.” 

Releasing a shaky breath, Jensen shakes his head. “No, I… I want to do this.”  _ I think _ . 

The sound of the door as it opens makes the omega jump, but when he slides into the driver’s seat, it’s like he can breathe for the first time since he moved back in with his parents. The seat cushions his body, cradling the curve of his back, the wheel itching to have his fingers curl around it. He moves the seat back so his legs are no longer cramped in the footwell, reaches up to adjust the rearview mirror with a shaky hand. 

When he closes his eyes to take a steadying breath, he sees the interior of the Stingray. All sleek black with chrome accents, the high-end stereo, the barely-used seat belts… No. He isn’t going to go there. Today is about easing back into it.  _ Nice and slow _ , he reminds himself. 

As soon as he activates the push-start, unease starts to creep into the calm center of his mind. The button feels too… advanced? He wishes he had the heavy solid fob of a key ring jingling against his thigh so he could feel more in control. With every noise the car makes-- the quiet hum of neutral, the click of his dad’s seat belt, the gentle squeak as he squirms in the seat, the finality of the doors closing-- the omega’s heart rabbits in his chest, attempting to break free. 

Jensen wets his lips, his entire body shaking as he wraps his fingers over the steering wheel. Flexing his grip a few times to become comfortable, he opens his eyes, but can’t seem to raise them from his lap. 

His nostrils flare with each stuttered breath as tears begin to drip down his cheeks. Ashamed, he whispers, “ _ I-I... c-can’t.”  _

Alan slowly gets out of the car and walks around to Jensen’s side. The omega’s frozen, unable to move as his dad opens the door then leans across to undo his seat belt. Even then, Jensen’s fingers refuse to release the steering wheel, his grip on it so tight his knuckles are white. 

“Alright…” Alan says, placing his hand gently on top of his son’s. He lets it rest there for a few moments before he begins to carefully uncurl each digit. 

As soon as he’s loose, the omega stumbles away from the car, like he can’t stand to even look at it. 

After Alan switches off the ignition, he sits down beside his son on the curb. The beta doesn’t say anything, allowing Jensen to compose himself if needed. But instead of trying to reign in the panic, Jensen lets it wash over him, burying his face into his father’s chest. 

_ “There you go… Alright… I’ve got you.”  _

Alan rocks him in his arms like he used to do when Jensen was seven and got scared of the dark whenever Josh stayed at a friend’s house. 

Once the tears stop, he leads Jensen back over to the car, but this time, he helps him into the passenger seat. The omega immediately rests his head against the window, his eyes drooping as the exhaustion sets in. He always feels drained after an anxiety attack. 

Alan silently starts the car, only speaking after he places a hand on Jensen’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go home.” 

  
  


The second time he tries, Jensen actually manages to shift the car into gear. The speedometer barely breaches the fifteen-mile-an-hour mark during the thirty-minute drive, but it’s progress. 

Mackenzie is with him this time. He agreed to accompany her on a short jaunt to the mall just before closing time so she could pick up a shirt she ordered while avoiding the crowds. When they left the store, the sun was just starting to set and the parking lot was nearly empty. 

The omega startled when she threw the keys at him, only just managing to snag them out of the air thanks to his pitcher reflexes. “Mack… I can’t,” he tried to argue. But she wouldn’t let up, talking about how much fun it would be. 

“It’ll be like when you drove with me, Jay. Remember? When I was just starting to learn and Dad got mad because I ran over a mailbox? You rode with me for  _ hours _ !” 

“I don’t know…” 

“C’ mon, Jay…  _ please _ ?” she begged in that annoying voice only little sisters seem to have. 

So yes, his second attempt went better than the first, even though he never managed to go above fifteen and it was dark and he hugged the tire to the curb like it was his job. 

_ Today _ , Jensen is going for lucky number three. He actually feels confident, for once-- hopping into the driver’s seat with ease, only a slight tremor visible in his hands as he adjusts the seat and mirrors. It only takes a few deep breaths this time before he’s able to pull the car away from the curb. 

His father’s with him again, though Mackenzie and his mom keep watch from the steps leading to the doors of the Ackles’ children's old high school. The parking lot is wonderfully vacant due to summer break so the omega doesn’t have to worry about people pulling out suddenly or veering into the wrong lane accidentally. 

The windows are all down, the dry Texas heat working its way down the back of Jensen’s tee-shirt. He welcomes it. 

He learned during the  _ very  _ short drive with Mack that being able to feel the breeze on his face and stick his arm out the window helps keep the feeling of suffocation at bay. The temperature has reached ninety-seven already and it’s barely nine in the morning, yet Jensen keeps his arm pressed against the searing metal, letting the bite on his skin ground him as the car pushes past twenty. The goal, set by him and his therapist during his last session, is to maintain thirty miles an hour for at least fifteen minutes. 

His therapist believes he can do it. His ever-supportive family  _ knows  _ he can do it. Now, it’s just up to Jensen. 

After ten minutes of driving around the parking lot, the needle is hovering just above twenty-five. 

Alan speaks up, “There’s no rush, alright? Just going for a nice drive…” 

“Right.” Jensen nods, his focus faltering for only a second. 

The omega’s hands seem to be glued in place, no longer able to slide freely when he turns the wheel. 

The car jerks unsteadily, the turn going way too wide and they end up on the wrong side of the road. Overcorrecting one way, then the other, the omega doesn’t notice his foot sink down on the accelerator. Alan does. 

“Why don’t you ease off the gas there a little. We’ve got all day, son.” 

Jensen’s head whips to look at him then frantically looks back just in time to watch the speedometer slide past fifty. Mind-numbing panic takes over. 

He immediately removes his foot from the accelerator. The car slows down-- but not fast enough to avoid the next turn. The omega’s eyes widen as he yanks the wheel to avoid smashing into a light pole. The tires screech as he slams on the brakes and throws the car into Park. 

It takes him three tries to get his seat belt off, sweat dripping into his eyes. He falls to his knees on unforgiving asphalt but quickly scrambles back up. Ignoring his family’s worried calls, Jensen makes his way over to the grass on shaky legs. His heart seizing in his chest, Jensen braces his hands on his knees and vomits. 

A gentle hand comes to rest on his back, softly rubbing a familiar pattern that he remembers from childhood. His mother used to do it whenever he or his siblings felt bad, sitting on the bathroom floor with them while their little bodies revolted. 

Wave after wave of nauseating memories rush over the omega as adrenaline continues flooding through his system. _ Josh screaming beside him… the car spinning into the tree… the screech of the tires as he tried to slam on the brakes… and the final sudden impact.  _

Jensen pitches forward, sick pouring from his mouth as he sinks further into the memory. He can feel the wheel beneath his hands, hear the engine race as he urges it to go even faster. _ The lights flashing across his vision… the pain in his temple…  _

Jensen’s fairly sure the screaming he hears is himself, but he can’t stop. 

Suddenly, it’s all too much-- the car, his family, his mother’s hand on his arm. Jensen backs away from her, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to remove the visceral images of twisted metal and his brother’s blood. Something solid catches the back of the omega’s shoe and he goes down hard, his head smacking the roadway as pain blooms in his shoulder and back. 

“ _ JENSEN _ !” Donna yells, rushing toward him, praying to God her baby hasn't reinjured his head. 

Mackenzie and Alan run up to him from the other side. Mackenzie drops to her knees and tries to reach for his head, but Alan grabs her wrist. 

“Let’s give him a minute to wake up first. See how he’s doing.” 

“But he could be hurt!” Mackenzie cries, worried about her brother. 

Surrounded by familiar voices, Jensen doesn’t open his eyes. He just gives in to the call of unconsciousness. 

  
  


Someone is holding his hand. It feels nice, the steady stroking making him feel calm and safe. When the omega opens his eyes, he hisses at the intensity of the light before instinctively turning his head to puke. 

Groaning, he throws the hand not being held over his eyes to block out the light. “Why is it so bright…” He feels like he used to after a night out with his teammates-- woozy, headache-y, and sick.

“Mack, honey, why don’t you close the blinds? Alan--” 

“I’ll go get the doctor.” 

Donna leans close so she can whisper beside his ear. “You’re in the hospital, sweetheart.” She holds a straw to his lips so he can take a tiny sip of water. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up so they can determine if you have a concussion…” 

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Jensen tunes out what his mother’s saying about the failed driving attempt and him hitting his head so hard he passed out. The doctors don’t need a CT to confirm he has a concussion, he knows from experience what one feels like. The throbbing in his skull, the sensitivity to light… yeah, he’s definitely got one.

He should probably feel relieved he didn’t hurt himself more than that, but all the omega really feels is frustrated.  _ Three attempts _ ... It took him  _ three  _ attempts to drive a car. And then, just when he thought he made actual progress and might be able to pass as a normal guy, he freaks out so bad he gives himself a freaking concussion! 

Everyone’s been reassuring him that it’s all ‘normal’-- “It takes time to accept and overcome trauma like you experienced,” they told him. But Jensen is getting tired of hearing it. He doesn’t care if all this is ‘normal’, he wants his life back! He wants to be back in his apartment where he doesn’t have to worry about anyone walking in on him at the wrong time. He wants to laugh and joke with his teammates as they throw the ball around and prepare for the World Series. A game of a lifetime that he won’t be pitching in because his shoulder is shot to hell. Sure, they gave him and his family tickets, but it isn’t the same as being on the field. And if he  _ does  _ go, he’ll probably just end up reliving that night all over again...seeing Josh’s face--

But the nightmares haven’t gone away completely and he still isn’t able to go anywhere by himself unless he takes the bus or calls a taxi. He’ll never again pitch for a pro team.

Because now, he’s damaged goods. 


End file.
